storms
by AtLoLevad
Summary: Thunderstorms in the night bring a visitor to Gendry and Arya's bed


Arya doesn't think she'll ever get used to the way storms are so much more intense at Storm's End. She supposes she should've anticipated it, but there were so few thunderstorms in the North and when they did come, they never lasted more than a day or two. Here, at her new home, they're in the middle of the storm season - months upon months of rain and thunder.

The current storm's been going strong for three days, keeping everyone locked inside. The rain batters at the windows, waves from the sea coming up and hitting the sides of the castle. The noise is deafening.

Arya lies awake in the overlarge featherbed, staring at the ceiling of their room. Gendry snores beside her, sprawled on his stomach, one hand tucked under his face and the other stretched out and touching her hip. It's all she can do not to kick him awake so he can suffer with her. Her hands rest on her extended stomach, the babe inside kicking and flipping away. She's only days away from the birth of this babe, according to the maester's best guess, and Arya can't wait. She hasn't been able to sleep since she grew large enough for her stomach to obscure her view of her feet.

Stupid, giant Baratheon babes.

A spectacularly loud clap of thunder shakes the room and even Gendry startles awake.

"Wha—?" his eyes are bleary and he blinks, looking around lazily.

"Thunder," Arya sighs, frustrated. "Go back to sleep," she murmurs bitterly.

Gendry's hand inches its way higher to rest against the side of her stomach. The babe kicks or punches his hand and he smiles. "Has the babe been up all night?"

"Yes!" Arya snaps, tired. "Your stupid, giant bull babes are night owls, as well!"

She rolls onto her side as best she can, facing him. There's a crease on his cheek from the pillow and his hair is disheveled. Arya bites her lip against the smile that threatens - her husband is the most stupidly gorgeous man in all the Seven Kingdoms. Despite her current state, a rush of desire fills her.

"I'm sorry, milady," he murmurs, more awake now as he inches closer to her on the bed. His hand rubs circles against her stretched-out stomach, and that seems to soothe the babe. Arya's eyes flutter open and shut, the rhythmic rubbing lulling her to sleep.

Until another clap of thunder startles her again.

"Damn!" she growls, pinching Gendry's arm in the next instant when she notices him smothering a laugh. "Think it's funny, do you? I'm suffering, carrying your second giant babe, can't even get a good night's sleep!"

"I'm sorry, my love," he laughs, fingers dancing gently over her stomach. "It's amusing that the one thing you can't ignore is the thunder."

"Well, how do you ignore it, then?" Arya demands.

Gendry shrugs awkwardly, "Dunno. Just do. Helps that I'm usually exhausted from working in the forge and running this place."

"Useless," Arya mutters. She winces as the babe kicks at her ribs. "This one's going to be difficult, I can tell," she sighs. Gendry resumes rubbing circles over her stomach.

"Ah, Durran's trouble in his own right," Gendry laughs, thinking of the way their two-year-old son hides in small spaces around the castle and flings his food across the room more than he puts it in his mouth.

"I'm surprised we haven't seen an appearance by him," Arya notes. More often than not, the thunderstorms wake the little boy and he screams until the septa brings him to their bedchambers so he can calm down.

"It's still early," Gendry mutters dryly. He drops a kiss to Arya's shoulder. "Think, in less than a moon's turn, we'll have another little babe."

Arya's eyes soften at his quiet excitement. Truth told, she loved Durran's infancy. He'd been such a quiet babe, content to be strapped to her chest while she rode. She wouldn't mind holding this new one close.

"Aye," she presses her hand to his cheek, "and maybe I'll finally get some bloody sleep again."

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Arya rolls her eyes and Gendry climbs out of bed, yanking a tunic over his head. He pulls the door open and sure enough, the septa is standing there, Durran - red faced and screaming - in her arms.

"I'm sorry, my Lord," she apologizes. "Master Durran refuses to quiet."

Gendry gives her an easy smile and takes Durran into his arms. "It's fine Septa Arbilla. The lad is always welcome with us." Durran's already quieted in his father's arms, burying his face in Gendry's shoulder and locking his pudgy hands around his neck. Gendry's large hand rubs up and down the boy's back.

Septa Arbilla nods again and retreats down the hall as Gendry closes and bars the door behind her.

"Ah, look who it is!" Arya's sitting up in bed, one hand reaching out for Durran.

"Mama!" he screams joyfully, all tears and thoughts of the thunderstorm gone. He lunges out of Gendry's arms and lands on the bed, crawling towards Arya. He cuddles against her side, one little hand patting her stomach. Arya brushes his hair - black as soot - off of his forehead.

"Did the storms scare you, my little pup?" she murmurs.

"No," Durran lies baldly and Gendry laughs. He drags the covers up over himself and the boy.

Arya yawns. "Time for bed, Durran," she whispers, letting him get as close as he can with her stomach in the way. He curls up, his back to Gendry, and soon enough, his breathing grows soft and he's passed out again. Gendry's hand rests against the boy's back and he looks over at Arya.

He laughs.

She's as passed out as their son is - mouth hanging open and softly snoring. One hand is curved around Durran's head and the other is angled protectively over her stomach. His she-wolf, protecting her pack, always.

* * *

_A/N: more fluff! i'm stockpiling and living in the happy world so that when the finale disappoints me on sunday i have somewhere to retreat to lol._

_i love gendrya as parents - drop me some prompts! _


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